


You Don't Do Me Justice

by sophiethung



Series: Will You Permit It? [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Character Diversion, Coping, Enjolras/Grantaire-centric, Friends With Benefits, Hurt Grantaire, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Oblivious Enjolras, Pain, Past Attempted Suicide, Patron-Minette - Freeform, Please Don't Hate Me, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, not R and E tho, so much pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-02 07:06:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiethung/pseuds/sophiethung
Summary: Grantaire can't take it anymore and finally snaps. Things are said. Damage is done.He can't cope and starts wasting himself away, mainly through alcohol and warm bodies. A different lover every night. The others try to help him, because they know how hard this is for him, but they accept they can't do much. Not that Grantaire lets them anyway.Enjolras is confused. Grantaire hasn't spoken to him in weeks since their fight, but he still shows up to the meetings. Will they be able to fix this?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta, so if you see any mistakes feel free to point them out.

 

"-and when we show them there's another way, the people will join," Enjolras said to his friends. "When we stand up against this dictator tomorrow, and we do it loud enough, the people will follow."

"They will not follow," a voice scoffed from the corner of the room. It was Grantaire, a man thoroughly drunk and a sneer on his tired face. The entire room fell into silence as Grantaire did not often voice his views, though they had always been more than clear.

"They will follow," retorted Enjolras firmly.

"You rely on humanity. You rely on the acts of humanity differing from what they have always been. You do not see the greed and the fear of the common people that will kill you all in the end." Grantaire felt he did not drink enough, as he felt the clarity and truth even through his thorough drunkenness.  

"It is the fear and the greed that will drive them," growled Enjolras. His knuckles turned white as he gripped a chair. "Even if they do not follow and we die, the cause will live on and will succeed. And we will be remembered."

Grantaire took another swig of his bottle. None but Gavroche, clever and observant as only a child could be, noticed the sadness in Grantaire's eyes. "Yes, but only by a small note in a textbook no student would ever read, or as a ghost story told offhandedly in this very place in the future," said he.

Enjolras drew himself up to his mighty heitght and conjured a glare under which even Combeferre would cower. But Grantaire stared into Enjolras' eyes with defeated anger. "You do not see the wonders that could in this world!" he yelled. "You do not see further than the hatred in your heart for what is now. You do not believe in anything but your own selfish ass!"

Now Grantaire shot to his feet, anger in his eyes the likes of which none present had ever seen before. His breath came in deep and quick pants. Enjolras hesitated because he never seen a man look so angry. But he also did not see his friend in front of him, but a stranger who needed convincing.  

"You believe-" Grantaire seethed, "You believe I do not see a future?  _The_ Future?" He laughed darkly and humorlessly, a sound which froze Enjolras' blood but did not pierce the steel mask on his face. 

"You don't do me justice," spat Grantaire. "I see the future as plainly as I see you. The world I see-" He paused, breathing hard to stop himself from shouting in earnest. "The world I see is one even you could not imagine,  _Apollo_. I see freedom in not only the working classes but freedom for the colonies, freedom for the ones you still dare to call 'savages'. There is freedom for man to choose however they want to make a living. And, oh dear lord, there will be those who wish the shackle us into the deepest pit of hell. Ones who will build walls around their borders to keep the happiness out." 

He did not stop, not did anyone try to stop him, because the terrible and aggressive magnificence with which Grantaire spoke was one that not even Enjolras could ever hope to achieve.

"In the world I envision, there is freedom to achieve those dreams you pine over; where education is no longer a privilege but a right. The world I see lets one choose whoever they want to be, regardless of whichever gender or shape that might be. I see men seeing women as their equal and both having equal opportunities. I see men loving men and I see women loving women. I see whites serenading whites and I see mixed children happy because loving is  _allowed_." Grantaire stopped, surveying the room with suppressed rage before his eyes settled on a steely-faced Enjolras. 

"Then why, Grabatire," said Enjolras, "do you not fight with us? You choose to spend your days in a bottle of wine tearing down everything I have to offer."

Grantaire shook his head, a frown still on his face, but no longer the same anger as prior. "

"Because, Apollo, I believe in my cause." There was a defiance in Grantaire's eyes everyone thought had faded from him. "But I do not believe in you."

Only Grantaire could see it, because Grantaire only ever truly saw Enjolras. There was a sadness, a desperation, a defeat in Enjolras' eyes. It was ever so subtle, Grantaire might've missed it. It would've broken him - but Grantaire couldn't find it in himself to care. He couldn't find anything in himself but emptiness. 

He fell back into his chair and sipped his bottle, ready to drink away the night. 

After a pregnant pause of shocked silence that seemed to last five years, the Friends of the ABC, led by Combeferre, continued their meeting.

But nobody but little Gavroche seemed to notice that neither Grantaire not Enjolras spoke anymore that night. 

* * *

 

"You make Grantaire seem like a Marius talking about his Cosette," laughed Courfeyrac when he read the text. "Trust Jehan to make anything seem poetic." He clapped Jehan on his back, who was sitting in front of his computer. 

"Don't expect much praise from Enj though," said Combeferre after he too read the text. "He's still angry at R for this." 

"That's alright," replied Jehan. "I still gotta change the names and the dates and then I can get it published."

"Alright," said 'Ferre.

They had to publish their meeting under different names and dates and in such a fictional way because the authorities couldn't know that the Friends of the ABC was an actual group. The dictator had forbidden any sort of protest or objection to his rule. As long as they ended the series with an unhappy ending and they kept changing the dates, this was the perfect way to stay hidden from the authorities while also spreading their Cause to people who knew about the club. 

"How's Grantaire?" asked Courfeyrac. 

"I don't know," replied Combeferre. "Last I saw he was drinking quite heavily."

"I think it's a good idea if we keep an eye on him for a while," said Jehan. "I've got a feeling this is not going to wash away easily.'

Combeferre and Courfeyrac agreed. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Enjolras is still confused, and goes to see Grantaire for an explanation and/or an apology. However, he encounters more than he bargained for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive feedback would be appreciated ;)

Enjolras drummed the top of his pen against his lips as he thought of other ways to start his speech. "Citizens, days are turning dark" seemed too formal and old-fashioned, but Courf's suggestion of "my dudes, shit's getting real out there" seemed too casual.

He seemed to be having more trouble than usual concentrating, even though mornings were usually a productive period of time for him. There was something nagging him in the back of his head, and Enjolras knew what is was.

 It'd been three weeks since Grantaire had finally spoken his mind. He had shut Enjolras down completely and then acted as if nothing had happened. He still showed up the meetings and he still offered critique on certain things, though not as much. He still drank heavily and he was still obnoxiously loud. He still distracted the rest of the group and made loud jokes regarding everyone and everything.

 But Enjolras couldn't just let it go. Grantaire basically said that he didn't believe they were going to accomplish anything. Not because the Cause wasn't right, but because he thought the Friends couldn't do it. That Enjolras couldn't do it.

 He also felt betrayed, not only by Grantaire, but also by his other friends. They'd said that Grantaire didn't believe in the cause but that he believed that Enjolras would accomplish something. Obviously that had been a lie.

 He slammed his notebook shut and stood up. He was going to Grantaire's - right now. He was going to demand an explanation and an apology, and then they'd be back to normal.

 He stormed out of the Musain more confident than he felt. 

* * *

 

 It was a long walk to Grantaire's apartment. Cars weren’t allowed in the city, and Enjolras didn’t have any money on him to take the bus. He didn’t mind, though, because it gave him some time to come up with something to say.

When he finally got to Grantaire’s door, he hesitated only a second before ringing the doorbell. There was the sound of someone hobbling down the stairs. The door swung open to reveal a very bleary-eyed Grantaire in nothing but his boxers.

“Enjolras!” he exclaimed in surprise, “what are you doing here?”

 “I wanted to talk to you,” replied Enjolras.

“Alright. Uh… come in?”

Enjolras squeezed past Grantaire and walked up the stairs. He’d never been inside Grantaire’s apartment before, so he was looking around curiously.

There were empty bottles scattered everywhere and clothes were thrown all across the room. There was a slight smell of sweat and something else that Enjolras couldn’t quite place but didn’t really want to either.

 “Sorry about the mess,” said Grantaire groggily from behind him. Enjolras wanted to say it was alright; but the room really was gross.

He followed Grantaire to the couch and sat down next to him. Grantaire had picked up grey sweatpants from somewhere on the floor and started tugging them on hurriedly.

“I wanted to talk to you about what you said, at that meeting,” said Enjolras carefully. Grantaire stilled for just a second before sighing deeply.

“I knew you were gonna say that,” he mumbled quietly. “Look, it’s not a big deal. I was angry and I said things you didn’t like, so you’re here for an apology. I’m sorry.” He said it all so matter-of-factly that Enjolras didn’t speak for some time, and before he could respond, Grantaire had already continued. “Enj, let’s not make this into a big deal, alright? They’re just words said by a drunkard.”

“Grantaire, I-“ Enjolras was cut off by a great noise coming from where he assumed was Grantaire’s bedroom.

The door swung open and to Enjolras’ surprise, Courfeyrac stumbled out in nothing but this underwear.

“R, have you seen my pants anywh-“ Courf stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw Enjolras. “Uh… Enj. What are you doing here?” he asked, blushing deeply. He looked from Enjolras to Grantaire to Enjolras again.

“Over there,” said Grantaire quietly, nodding to an armchair across the room. “Sorry about this. It’s…” he started, looking at Enjolras apologetically.

“It’s fine,” said Enjolras, eyebrow raised. “I was just leaving anyway,” he added quickly. He felt awkward and intrusive and he didn’t really want to ruin their time together.

He stood up and walked towards the door. He swung it open and walked out of the apartment fairly quickly, but not quick enough to prevent him from hearing Grantaire stumbling after him.

“Enj!” he called. But Enjolras just kept walking.

So Grantaire and Courf were together. That was definitely new to him. But he was absolutely okay with it. It wasn’t his business anyway. What his friends did in private wasn’t any of his concern.

He just felt slightly disappointed that he did not get a good apology. And that his third-in-command was sleeping with the one man who didn’t believe that Enjolras could achieve anything.

He returned the Musain feeling more confused than when he’d left it.

* * *

 

 

 

“R, I am so sorry,” said Courf for the third time that morning. It was getting slightly annoying.

“It’s no big deal,” sighed Grantaire.

“Yes, it is. You were fixing things and I screwed that up!” Courf looked at him guiltily.

“There wasn’t anything to break in the first place, Courf,” said Grantaire. “Besides, we’re good. I apologized just before you came in.” That seemed to calm Courf down a little bit.

“You’re sure you’re over him?” he asked carefully.

“If I weren’t, would I do this?” Grantaire hooked his fingers through the belt loops in Courf’s trousers and pulled him in for a kiss.

Careful and slow at first, but growing deeper every second. Grantaire bit Courf’s lower lip teasingly and slotted their hips together. Courfeyrac grunted against R’s mouth and pressed closer, hands roaming his chest and hips.

Soon they were both on the floor, panting heavily. 

Grantaire got up and looked for his boxers, which he’d lost somewhere along the way. He dressed and gave Courfeyrac a goodbye kiss before leaving to his classes.

* * *

 

 

 

“Enjolras!” called Courfeyrac from across the room. He started making his way towards him while Enjolras sighed silently. He’d been avoiding both Courf and Grantaire the past meeting, but Courf was far too observant to have missed it. To be honest he dreaded a confrontation like this one.

“Is this about you and Grantaire?” Enjolras sighed. “Because if it is, your relationship is really none of my business.” Courf looked a little confused for a second before recovering.

“You know Grantaire and I aren’t dating, right?” he said. “We just sleep together.”

Now it was Enjolras’ turn to raise an eyebrow in surprise. “What?”

“Yeah, and I’m not the only one,” giggled Courf. “I think he’s slept with over half of us. I think he may have even slept with Marius at one point, even though he realized he was very straight afterwards. He lays off Jehan because he thinks he’s too innocent, and obviously Bossuet and Joly are off the table.” Enjolras frowned. How come he’d never noticed this?

“Wrong, Courf,” said Joly, who’s joined in to listen. “He got me before I got together with Bossuet and ‘Chetta.”

Courf snorted and burst out laughing.

“How come he slept with Marius anyway? Wasn’t he already dating Cosette before R’s sleeping spree?” asked Joly. Sleeping spree?

“He helped Marius out when Cosette rejected him that first time. He was incredibly drunk and sexually frustrated and came to R for help,” answered Courf casually. Enjolras kept getting more and more confused, but also curious.

“Sleeping spree?” he asked Joly.

“Oh. R started sleeping around a lot more around… a while back,” Joly shot a look at Courf, who’d stilled next to Enjolras. They were hiding something. He decided not to press it however, because Grantaire had just walked in. He already felt uncomfortable discussion sex-lives in general, but especially with Grantaire it would be awkward, because he would always do this weird thing that made Enjolras a bit uncomfortable.

“Right let’s get started,” said Enjolras, clasping his hands together. He'd decided that was enough about Grantaire's sex-life for one night, and he really just wanted to move on and get a move on with fighting the dictator. Simple. Not complicated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't really figured out a pattern in which I'm going to update, because some weekends I've got to study more than others. I would love your feedback. Have a wonderful day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiraling down :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit long, and a lot happens so prepare yourselves ;)

Grantaire had been working on a sketch to put on the posters when a girl plopped down next to him. She was wearing a dirty trench-coat which didn't really match her cargo pants, and a hat which looked similar to his beanie. Underneath the dirt on her face and the unbrushed brown hair it was easy to see she was quite beautiful, if it hadn't been for the scowl on her face.

"Éponine, right?" asked Grantaire, handing her his bottle. She took a deep swig before nodding. "Marius' friend?"

"Not anymore," she answered darkly. Her accent was interesting, because you could tell she was from the streets, but it wasn't as rough as most street rats he'd met, like Gavroche. When Grantaire looked at her questioningly, she explained.

"Why would I bother when I'm basically the reason why Marius was able to date Cosette." She wasn't looking at him, but gazing darkly at Marius, who was chatting happily with Courf across the room.

"What's wrong with that?"

"It sucks because he's my Enjolras." She looked him directly in the eye now, and Grantaire was startled by how intelligent and piercing they were.

"What-" he began.

"Come on, I've been here for 15 minutes and even I can see it," she half-scoffed, half-laughed. Grantaire just gaped at her.

"It's funny because Marius always told me he was smart, but he's got to be really dim-witted not to see  all of this." She gestured to Grantaire. He snatched the bottle out of her hand and drank.

"Anyways, back to you," he said after a while, "What made you come here if you don't want to be friends with Marius?"

"Someone's got to keep him in trouble. Besides, don't wanna run errands for my parents today," she grumbled.

"What do they do?" Grantaire had a feeling the answer was going to be interesting.

"I'm a Thénardier," she said. Grantaire choked on his drink. Thénardiers were a family affiliated with the Patron-Minette, a gang known for running almost all the crime in Paris. The Thénardiers were manipulative and ruthless, even though they were never part of the gang.

"Oh," he said meekly. Éponine laughed. 

"You're taking this well," she noted. "Marius thought I was there to kill him when I came to collect the rent." 

Grantaire laughed along with Éponine, and soon they were clutching their sides with laughter more than they should - but hey, blame the drink.

"Something funny?" asked Enjolras coldly. The whole room had fallen silent to the loud and disruptive laughter coming from the corner of the room. 

"You thought she was going to kill you!" giggled Grantaire, pointing shakily at Marius, who burst out laughing as well.

"She told you, uh?" But Grantaire couldn't answer because he was clutching his sides again with laugher. Soon Joly joined in, because he was the kind of guy who would laugh whenever someone else laughed. Then Jehan was giggling as well.

Withing minutes the whole room was laughing, except maybe Enjolras, who was grumbling about continuing the meeting tomorrow. He knew a lost cause when he saw one. 

* * *

 

Half an hour later the room was filled with laughter and chatter, because everyone had abandoned the meeting and was enjoying the Saturday afternoon with their friends. 

At one point Marius got a phone call.

"Everyone shut it!" he yelled, "Hey, Cosette."

And the room just burst.

"Oi! Put your pants back on!" yelled Jehan.

"Pass the weed!" That was Bossuet

"Come back to bed!" bellowed Grantaire.

Courfeyrac joined in with some downright pornographic sex-noises together with Feuilly.

But when Marius hurriedly said "No, honey, that's Courf. No, I'm not - he's messing with you!" the whole room just burst out laughing again. Even Enjolras was shaking his head, smiling to himself. 

"You people are terrible," said Marius after he'd hung up, but he was smiling too. 

"I knew a different Cosette once," said Éponine to Grantaire. "Grew up with one." Grantaire turned his body towards her, showing his interest.

"My family used to be quite rich, if you can believe it. This was back when I still had all my siblings-" Grantaire was about to say he was sorry, but Éponine said it so casually that he thought she didn't really want his pity. "-and my father's inn still ran perfectly. There was this woman whose lover had left her with a daughter. The mother couldn't afford a kid, so she left it with us, while paying us monthly rent for her. My parents hated the other Cosette, but we were always good friends. Anyways she was adopted by this guy when her mother died." 

"My Cosette's adopted too," said Marius, who came to sit next to Éponine. She shifted uncomfortably. 

"She's not the same one, though. The man who adopted her turned out to be an ex-convict. She's probably dead now." Both Grantaire and Marius stared at her. "What? It's not like we knew he was a criminal. He hid it really well. To be able to hide you criminality from another criminal takes skill," she said airily. Grantaire snorted and Éponine giggled. 

"So what do  _you_ do?" Éponine said quickly, probably eager to change the topic. 

"I'm an art student," replied Grantaire quietly. Most girls didn't really appreciate paint-artists that much. Besides, his movement was illegal in this dictatorship. 

"Which art?"  _Shit._ But then Grantaire realized that Éponine was the daughter of two of the most active criminals in the city, so he relaxed quickly.

"Impressionism paintings," he said. Éponine grinned broadly, which certainly wasn't a reaction he expected. "What?" he said nervously.

"Anybody who breaks the law is my friend," she said mischievously.

* * *

Grantaire certainly got to know Éponine better over the next few weeks. She came to almost every meeting, just to drink with him. But not even her down-to-earth humor could distract him from the fact that Enjolras seemed to hate him more and more, and that Grantaire couldn't stop thinking about him.

He'd been fascinated with Enjolras from the very start. His god-like features and his light blinded Grantaire until he'd drunk himself into darkness. But the drink wasn't enough. It couldn't distract him from the fact that he'd lied to Enjolras because he couldn't bear the hate anymore. He'd finally snapped. And now everything was ruined.

Enjolras didn't even look at him anymore. Grantaire tried to bring everything back to normal, but he just couldn't anymore. At first he thought distracting himself with someone else would help, but it didn't do much. Éponine helped him, of course; she knew what he was going through.

They would help each other get a distraction, occasionally. Some days it was her, other days it was Courf, and occasionally some random person from the clubs or the bars.

Grantaire found that drinking until he forgot worked. It took a lot out of him, but he preferred it over the reality of his situation.

Joly noticed, of course, he always did. Ever since his parents died _hating_ him, and he'd gone into this sort of pit. That pit was also known as hell. Joly had helped him out, which Grantaire was grateful for, but the man was a bloodhound. 

Anyway, he'd cornered Grantaire one night and told him if he didn't slow down, he was going to forbid Musichetta to serve alcohol to him.

Grantaire promised to slow down, obviously, but he had a whole stock in his apartment. After meetings he would keep drinking. And then he'd wake up with some person and no memories from the previous night. 

And he'd just do it all over again.

Éponine understood. Things were getting worse between her and Marius too. Marius thought she was being unfair by sort of ignoring him, but he'd said she was doing it for no reason, which made 'Ponine so angry she drank until she passed out. But not before throwing a bottle as a running Marius.

This continued for some time until Grantaire had to drag 'Ponine to her apartment and found someone already there...

* * *

 

"Come on, 'Ponine," grunted Grantaire, half-dragging, half-carrying her from alley to alley. They couldn't be seen out in the open, just because being too drunk might land them in jail for a good year. France was a bloody strict country.

Éponine was passed out after another fight with Marius. This one had been particularly nasty, because Marius had been quite drunk as well, and that boy had no filter when he was drunk. Éponine was angry at him for loving Cosette, saying she'd never love him like she did. He said terrible things to her, including things about her being no better than her parents. Marius was a good person though, even when he was drunk, and he'd realized his mistake immediately.

But Éponine had already been gone. 

They turned the last corner to the apartment building and they sneaked inside as quietly as they could. Technically speaking, it wasn't an apartment building, but an abandoned office building. Éponine just lived here with a lot of the lower-class Patron-Minette. 

Her room was on the 7th floor, in one of the larger offices. 

"Urgh, y'no, don' 'Nasse," she kept saying. She was really far gone. Grantaire fished opened the unlocked door and dragged Éponine inside. The light didn't work, but the room had lots of windows and the lights from the streets were enough to see a little bit.

It was enough to see that they weren't alone. A tall figure stood as soon as it saw them. 

"'Ponine!" a deep voice called. In two long strides the figure was beside her and scooped her up. He set her down on the couch and grabbed a blanket from the floor. He tucked her in tightly before turning to face Grantaire. 

"Who are you?" the man growled. 

"Uh, Grantaire," he replied hesitantly.  He still couldn't see the stranger's face, but he could see the outline of his body and  _damn._

"Montparnasse."  _Fuck._ Montparnasse was one of the heads of Patron-Minette. He already killed a number of people, despite only being 26 years old. Or at least, that was what Grantaire heard. However, Éponine told him about this guy. He was a good friend of hers and he would probably only attack the rich.

"She told me about you," said Montparnasse.

"Oh," was all Grantaire could reply. Montparnasse stalked to the camping light 'Ponine kept on her table. He switched it on, and Grantaire could finally see his face. He gasped quietly.

His face was as godly as Enjolras'. With high cheekbones and piercing green eyes, he was one of the most beautiful people Grantaire had ever seen. Except for Enjolras, maybe.

But if Enjolras was Apollo, then this guy was Hades. Still beautiful, but so much more mysterious. He had dark curls that just barely reached his eyes and he had this arrogant air about him. This man knew he was beautiful, and it was fucking sexy. 

"So, was it Marius again?" asked Montparnasse in his deep voice. Grantaire could only nod. Montparnasse scowled. "One day, I swear, he's gonna break her." That snapped Grantaire back to reality.

"She won't move on," said Grantaire. "She just keeps trying to get back to him." Montparnasse's eyes snapped to his, making Grantaire swallow nervously. But then he nodded.

"That's what I keep trying to say to her," he said. "I keep trying to distract her with... things-" uh-huh. "But it doesn't work." 

"Yeah, me too," said Grantaire before thinking. Montparnasse frowned, but then he smirked.  _Holy fuck._

"Is that so?"

"Well she helps me too," rambled Grantaire. God, he was only making this worse. "We have similar problems," he muttered under his breath. Now Montparnasse was stalking towards him, that smirk still on his lips. He stopped only until Grantaire could feel his breath on his face. Grantaire certainly wasn't short. He was only 2 inches shorter than Enjolras' 6'1" frame, but this guy must've been at least five inches taller than him.

"And how does she help you?" Grantaire didn't like where this was going.

"You know..." Grantaire was way too sober for this shit.

"Does she help you like this?" And then Montparnasse's perfect lips were on his. There was a large hand splayed on his lower back and another one cupping his head. Grantaire was stunned for just a second before he gripped the hand that was against his neck and placed his other hand against Montparnasse's chest.

He stepped closer so that his feet were almost in between Montparnasse's and pushed their hips together. He could feel him grinning against his mouth.

"There's an empty room that way," whispered Montparnasse huskily. And then he was being pushed through the door, without their lips ever breaking apart. 

* * *

 Grantaire woke the next morning under a thin blanket, on the floor of an office. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, willing his headache to go away. He sat up and looked for his clothes, which were all over the room. Montparnasse was already gone, probably to Éponine. Grantaire didn't mind. 

When he was dressed he went into Éponine's room, where he plopped onto the couch next to an awake 'Ponine. She smiled weakly and passed him a glass of water. The door opened and Montparnasse walked through with two pizza boxes in his hand. He smiled at Éponine and Grantaire.

"Well, you both look like shit," he chuckled. 

"Just pass me the pizza, asshole," grumbled Éponine. Montparnasse laughed and ruffled her hair. He then looked at Grantaire and smirked, probably because he knew how sore he was.

Grantaire's every muscle hurt, especially his legs. Not that he cared, because sex with Montparnasse was one of the most mind-blowing things he'd ever experienced. 

* * *

 "Have any of you talked to R lately?" Courf asked. Enjolras turned to listen. Grantaire hadn't shown up to the past two meetings, and Joly was having minor moments of panic every hour. 

"I saw him jus' yesterday," replied Gavroche, who was reporting recent disappearances and arrests. "Was quite drunk, though. Was stumblin' home from a bar."

"He hasn't... invited any of us lately," said Courf, glancing at Enjolras, and then at the door, which Éponine had just stumbled through. 

"Courf, can I talk to you?" she asked, an urgent tone to her voice. "You too, Enjolras."

They moved to the back of the room, where it was unlikely they would be heard. 

"Has he invited you lately?" asked Courf

"What? No, he's been sleeping with Montparnasse for weeks now." 

"What?!" exclaimed Enjolras. Montparnasse was dangerous. 

"Why didn't you tell us?" scolded Courfeyrac.

"Why is it so important?" When both Courf and Enjolras looked at her incredulously, she rolled her eyes. "Look, I've know 'Parnasse since birth. He won't hurt him. He hasn't."

"Then why did you want to talk to us?" asked Enjolras.

"Because he's going too far. the drinking and the sex, I mean. Even for my standards. I went to his apartment this morning, and I saw his paintings. They're all about murder or torture. And it's always him that's the victim."

"Who's inflicting the torture?" asked Courf. Éponine, for the first time since Enjolras met her, looked uncertain.

"Well - you," she said to Enjolras.

Everything seemed to fade away. The room turned twice as dark and Enjolras was only half-aware of Courfeyrac saying something about it happening again and going to get Joly.

Grantaire was back in his pit. Because. Of. Him.

The pit that gave Joly nightmares. The pit that even Marius knew about.

The pit that had Grantaire try to kill himself the last time 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive feedback is always appreciated and have a wonderful day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Les Amis de l'ABC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PANIC ATTACKS AND GRAPHIC WOUNDS.

"Everyone listen up!" shouted Combeferre over the noise. Enjolras had told him about Grantaire, and together they decided everyone needed to know. 

The room fell silent immediately. Combeferre was passionate, but he almost never shouted unless it was serious.

"You've all noticed Grantaire hasn't been here for some time," he said, inhaling deeply before continuing. "We think he's back in the pit."

The effect of these words were enormous.

Jehan's eyes promptly started to overflow. Bossuet held a sobbing Musichetta to him, whose hair had gotten stuck to his hands. Feuilly swayed for a moment before sitting down and being consoled by Marius. Gavroche swore violently before being prevented running out of the room by Courfeyrac. Bahorel punched a wall, cursing under his breath.

Enjolras felt Combeferre's hand on his shoulder, but he didn't acknowledge it, because what was the point.

"Joly and Éponine are looking for him now," Combeferre continued. " But I want everybody out there now. Gavroche, get your boys in the street A.S.A.P. Feuilly, you and Bossuet search the industrial area. Marius and Enjolras will search the richer areas. Jehan and Courfeyrac will search the squares. Bahorel and I will search the campus. Éponine's got the bars and Patron-Minette area covered, and Joly is searching the hospitals. He's not at his apartment or with Montparnasse's, but I want Gavroche on Grantaire's and one of his boys on the other one." 

Everything was said rather rapidly, but everyone understood it perfectly and sprung into action. Gavroche only complained mildly about not getting to look around. 

Combeferre had divided everyone so that they were in the areas they were familiar with, which left Enjolras in a place where Grantaire would least likely be. 

Both Enjolras and Grantaire hated the richer areas. Grantaire because he would never be able to live here, and Enjolras because he _had_ lived here. 

Marius'd given his phone to Gavroche, in case anything happened, so he had to stick with Enjolras. He wouldn't mind if it were any other point in time, because all he wanted to do was run. 

But he couldn't. He couldn't because Marius would chase after him, and prevent him from doing anything stupid. 

Marius was using his phone to text Cosette, who joined them after a while. Great. Now he had to put up with their distracting "love-thing" while they had more important things to worry about. Who cared about them, they had larger things to focus on - like Grantaire's life. But Cosette was quiet. 

Enjolras couldn't really see her, because it was dark out, but he could tell she was looking at him. There was something about her that made his stomach uneasy. 

Enjolras snatched his phone out of Marius' hands when he heard the notification go off. 

_From: Marius Pontmercy_

_Voice message_

Enjolras opened the message with trembling hands.

"He's safe. Send Joly," came Gavroche's voice. Enjolras felt an enormous weight lifted off his shoulder and he sighed with relief. But why did Gavroche say to bring Joly? Was he hurt?

Now Enjolras really did start running. He started running towards Grantaire's apartment, and he didn't care how far it was. He just needed to know Grantaire was okay.

* * *

 

Enjolras arrived at the apartment panting heavily. He burst through the door and bounded up the stairs, almost tripping over the numerous empty bottles. He stopped dead in the doorway when he saw Grantaire on the couch, holding an icepack to his eye and Joly tending to a nasty gash on his head. 

As soon as he saw Enjolras, he grinned. "Got you all worried now, eh?"  Anger boiled in his veins and it took everything in Enjolras not to punch the drunk man in front of him, so he sank down against the wall instead. 

He leaned his head against the wall and took a moment to catch his breath. He heard the door open and a moment later a later a loud thud, announcing Bossuet's arrival in the house. Musichetta made it up the stairs first.

"Cariño!" she exclaimed before hugging Grantaire tightly. Enjolras and Joly saw him wince visibly, so Joly gently pulled 'Chetta away from him and pulled up Grantaire's shirt. Bossuet made it up the stairs too now and gasped when he saw Grantaire's torso. It was covered in swollen bruises, which Joly gently touched. Grantaire winced heavily, and Joly sighed. 

"Broken ribs," he said to Enjolras. At this point Musichetta started flowing a steady flow of swearwords in Spanish at Grantaire, which he all understood perfectly. 

Gavroche appeared in the hallway, saying something about putting his boys to bed. Feuilly appeared after him; he'd been calling the rest of the Friends. 

There was a great stumbling noise downstairs with several grunts. Enjolras looked up and saw Jehan leaning heavily on Courfeyrac, head bowed. Courf's nose was bleeding, and there was a nasty bruise on his jaw.

Enjolras shot up and caught Jehan before he could completely collapse on the floor. Bossuet ran to Courf, but tripped halfway there. He got up and supported Courf to the armchair, while Enjolras carried Jehan to the couch. 

"What happened?" asked Musichetta, who was holding a tissue to Courf's nose. 

"Bahorel... Fight. Patron-Binette," Courf said through all the blood in his mouth. "Jehan got... hit." He gestured to his head.

Joly was inspecting Jehan's head, where his hair was matted with blood. 

"Bahorel's bith Cobferre," said Courf with difficulty. "They're fine."

Grantaire, who'd gotten up, looked at Jehan in shock. He seemed to have sobered up quite a bit. Now that he wasn't holding the ice-pack to his eye, Enjolras could see his cheekbone had swollen up and was becoming quite red. 

Enjolras knew Grantaire cared about Jehan. Jehan and Grantaire could appreciate each other's art, meeting up on Sunday's to paint and write. Jehan was almost like a little brother to Grantaire. 

"Enjolras, is this my fault?" he asked. He was staring wide-eyed at Enjolras, as if he had some kind of answer. All the anger Enjolras felt towards Grantaire melted away. He looked so lost, so guilty. 

Grantaire's breath suddenly came in ragged and short gasps, and he started clutching at his chest. 

"Enjolras, he's having a panic-attack!" warned Joly, who was busy stopping the bleeding on Jehan. Enjolras didn't know what to do, so he just rushed forward and threw his arms around Grantaire.

Grantaire immediately responded by gripping the back of Enjolras' jacket and burying his face in his shoulder, still not able to breathe. Enjolras took deep, slow breaths for Grantaire to follow with. He'd seen Bossuet do this before with Joly, who was prone to anxiety attacks. He could feel Grantaire try to follow along, but he was still short of breath.

"R," he decided to use Grantaire's nickname, maybe it would help, "R, it's not your fault. Focus on me, R. Just focus on my voice." Enjolras really didn't know where he was getting all of this from, but all that mattered right now was calming Grantaire down. "Focus on me. Deep breaths. Breathe." Grantaire finally matched Enjolras, but his breathing quickened again. Enjolras thought he was panicking again when he realized Grantaire was crying.

He was sobbing into Enjolras' shirt, clutching to him as if he was going to die if he didn't. And Enjolras let him, because he didn't blame him. He heard Gavroche let out a whimper behind him, and Courf calming him.

"I'm sorry, Apollo."

Enjolras didn't let Grantaire go for a long, long time.

* * *

Combeferre explained everything the next day.

There had been a small group of Patron-Minette youngsters, including Montparnasse. Jehan, Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Bahorel had met up in between when Bahorel had seen Montparnasse.

Bahorel thought it was all Montparnasse's fault, Grantaire being back in the pit. so he punched him ("He had it coming"). Obviously the whole group attacked, but it didn't get too out of control because Montparnasse stopped it. By that time a huge guy had already set his eyes on Jehan, and he didn't stop until he'd hit him unconscious, which only took two hits. 

Montparnasse used his gun to calm the guy down, and told them they needed to leave. That's when they got the text saying Grantaire was at the apartment, so they knew Joly was going to be there too. Combeferre and Bahorel didn't take any serious hits, so they went to the Musain, while Courf and Jehan went to the apartment.

Grantaire didn't hear this version. 

Combeferre told him that Gavroche had been looking for food when he'd seen Grantaire stumbling home injured. He helped him inside and called everyone with the phone he stole from Marius. Enjolras, who'd been running that night, was already close by. Bahorel had thought the Patron-Minette had done it, so he went to fight them with Jehan and Courfeyrac trying to stop him. 

Grantaire wasn't dumb, so he didn't believe this version. 

He'd told Enjolras and the other he'd fallen down the stairs, instead of telling them he got himself in a fight with a particularly violent wing of Patron-Minette. 

Enjolras wasn't stupid either.

But Grantaire accepted that he was now being watched by his friends at all times. He was surprised they still let him see 'Parnasse. They had Joly stay at his house, something he was used to and there was always someone walking him everywhere. 

Jehan, when he recovered, kept coming over to discuss the arts, and Courf kept wanting to come over to "discuss new pubs and clubs". These visits by Courf became a lot rougher as soon as his ribs healed.

But something that really surprised him was the way Enjolras was acting. They still argued over almost everything, and Enjolras still got thoroughly annoyed whenever Grantaire spoke up during the meeting, which was fair, because Grantaire would never pass up an opportunity to be overly-sarcastic. But he also checked up on him every now and then. 

He would come sit at his table before and after meetings and try to make conversation (something Enjolras was surprisingly terrible at), and he would even walk him home sometimes. Grantaire used to think Enjolras would have been glad if Grantaire had died that first time, but now he wasn't so sure. 

Enjolras on the other hand, was continuously worried about Grantaire. It distracted him during meeting, which really annoyed him because meetings were the most important things in Paris at this moment.

Occurrences like this one were becoming common:

"We fight for _liberté_ , _égalité, et-"_  he was cut off by Grantaire yelling " _sexualité!"_ from across the room. He couldn't get mad at Grantaire, though. In fact, he was trying hard not to laugh, so he settled for a glare instead. 

Even as he was writing his speeches, there was Grantaire nagging at the back of his mind. 

Enjolras had always had a crush on Feuilly, the orphan who worked in the mines, who shared a love for the people almost as strong as Combeferre's. But Enjolras didn't feel anything when Feuilly and Bahorel had drunkenly made out in front of him. It just didn't affect him anymore. 

Enjolras was becoming steadily confused. That is, until one Saturday afternoon. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the panic attack bit wasn't personal experience. If it was in any way handled wrong or just no, please let me know. I try to be careful putting in these sort of scenes, but you never know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Les Amis go to clubbing and it gets weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy ;)

"Tholomyès has arrested three governors this week alone," said Enjolras, looking around at the faces staring up at him. "That leaves Valjean as the only one left who will fight for us.  Tholomyès executed fifteen men and women for being  _gay_ last week and he let 23 of Gavroche's people die this month! Two were flogged for _talking_ about outside nations and one was executed for watching a Hollywood movie." 

They'd been discussing the importance of Valjean for three hours straight when Enjolras noticed some members of the ABC becoming bored with the arguments he was providing, so he'd decided to remind them of the horrors inflicted by Tholomyès, and why they were fighting him.

"He's letting us starve in the streets, but will kill us if we dare to sleep in them! The peoples of the colonies are used as  _slaves_ to provide for the parties and banquets of the rich! Feuilly isn't allowed to do anything but mine coal because of Tholomyès' job regulations! He would have Éponine stay at home and cook for all of us if he had his way." Enjolras paused, staring each _Amis_ in the eye. "That is why we have to  _fight,_ to cut Tholomyès and the fat ones down and take the country back!"

The room buzzed with several "hear! hear!"'s, before Enjolras continued. 

"Because what, in this world, is better than taking vengeance on the ones who have oppressed us for so long?" he asked.

"To be free," said Combeferre. Enjolras nodded at him - that was true. 

The room fell silent for just a moment while everybody thought of the freedom they'd never known.

"Well, I think that's enough for one night," said Courfeyrac cheerily. He stood up and stretched, looking at anyone who would disagree.

Enjolras was about to protest, but Courf never gave him the chance. "Come on, Enj! Let go for once. Tell you what, we're going to the club."

Enjolras knew Courfeyrac was trying to keep these meetings interesting for everyone present, even if he didn't agree on his methods. Besides, it wasn't like he could do anything about it, because there was enthusiastic agreement from everybody in the room. 

"Well, let's get changed and meet back here in an hour," said Joly resolutely.

* * *

Enjolras hadn't bothered to change, but red jacket and loose ribbon around his neck were acceptable just about anywhere. Grantaire had changed to a blue flannel shirt to a green flannel shirt, which earned a chuckle from Courf, who'd put on his leather jacket ("It works with the ladies"). 

Courf had really started laughing when Combeferre showed up in a flesh-colored sweater pulled over a dress-shirt. It wasn't very different from what he normally wore, but even Enjolras knew he was going to look strange in a club. 

"You look like a bloody librarian!" laughed Courf. "Oh, this is gonna be great." Combeferre had only frowned and rolled up his sleeves, which looked a little better.

Jehan showed up in an overly large sweater decorated with numerous flower - which looked adorable on him according to Courfeyrac. 

Marius, much to everyone's dismay was accompanied by Cosette, who was dressed in a blue polo shirt and a short skirt.

Now that Courf actually met her in person, he had to admit she was very pretty. Her blonder hair fell over one shoulder in perfect spirals, and her makeup was so subtle it was barely noticeable, had it not been for the shine on her cheekbones. She also looked vaguely familiar, but Courf couldn't place where he'd seen her before. She had large round eyes and a red tint to her cheeks that made her seem very young and innocent. 

Joly and Bossuet's outfits looked so similar they might've come from the same closet, which they probably did, and Bahorel had chosen the exact lumberjack outfit that showed off his rippling muscles.

All in all, there was a good chance at least one of them was getting laid tonight (Courf was betting on himself).

It was a short walk to the abandoned apartment building, but everybody was a little on edge anyway. The bright street lights threw eerie shadows all over the walls, and Courf thought at least once he saw a man running away. When they finally sneaked inside through the small door, it was like there was a sigh of relief that flooded through the group.

The  _Corinth_ was technically illegal, so it was usually hard to actually get inside. Luckily, Éponine was well connected and already inside, so they got in without a problem. The massive guard did raise an eyebrow at Marius and Cosette, who definitely looked too rich for this place. 

The loud music flooded Courf's ears as soon as he stepped into the room, and the ground trembled beneath his feet from the many bodies jumping on the dance-floor. There were lights flashing everywhere and people moving around with full glasses in each hand. 

They picked out a large stall where everyone could sit if they tried hard enough. However, Courf didn't stay long and grabbed Jehan's hand to drag him to the dance floor. 

* * *

 Grantaire laughed as he saw Courf being dragged away from Jehan by two girls, leaving Jehan standing awkwardly in the midst of drunk, dancing people. He quickly made his way back to the booth after picking up three beers and a coke. 

Only Enjolras, Combeferre and Grantaire weren't dancing, as none of them really felt up for it. Jehan passed the beers to Grantaire and Combeferre, and gave the coke to Enjolras.

Éponine had left him some time ago to dance with Feuilly, which was getting steadily more physical by the minute. Grantaire watched both Enjolras and Marius closely. Marius looked like he'd tasted something sour, while Enjolras seemed strangely unbothered. Grantaire knew Enjolras fancied Feuilly, so he was confused as to why Enjolras was so indifferent to Éponine grinding up against him.

Enjolras had noticed, but he just didn't care. He was trying to talk to Combeferre about new ways to send out the meetings, since their fiction system was compromised. 

He was also watching Grantaire, who was drinking again. It wasn't more than usual, but it was still a lot. Enjolras was worried. 

When Grantaire caught his eye he quickly turned to Combeferre, who was being dragged away by Bahorel. To avoid looking at Grantaire again, he instead focused on the mass of people dancing in front of him. 

He spotted Musichetta, who was dancing between Joly and Bossuet. It was awkward, because Joly had a mouth cover on and Bossuet kept tripping over people's toes. 

Courfeyrac, on the other hand, was wedged between two girls, grinding the night away. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

Combeferre was dancing surprisingly smoothly with some girl he'd never seen before. Enjolras chuckled. The girl wasn't exactly short, but she looked tiny next to Combeferre's tall frame.

Jehan was keeping Bahorel from fighting some guy who'd tried to grind against Jehan, while right next to them, Éponine and Feuilly were so tangled up it was hard to tell which limb belonged to who.

Cosette and Marius were somehow slow-dancing to the music. It was quite impressive, because the song was about as slow as Jehan's speech after coffee. 

Enjolras' head snapped up when he saw a girl standing in front of him, hand stretched out to him. He shot one look at Grantaire before thinking  _screw it_ and taking her hand. She led him to the dance-floor, and put his hand on her hip. 

Although Enjolras moved awkwardly at first, having to look at his feet to prevent stepping on hers, he quickly got the music and held a bit tighter onto her waist. She smiled up at him brightly and moved closer. They moved together like this for a while before she pulled him away to a wall. 

Before he knew it, she'd pushed him against the wall and was kissing him.  _No._

She was pretty, but Enjolras didn't want this. But when he tried to pull away gently, she only leaned in closer. He finally slipped out of her grip through the side and moved back to the booth. But Grantaire wasn't there. 

Éponine seemed to have pulled herself away from Feuilly and shouted to Enjolras.

"You fucking idiot!" she screamed. "You think that because Grantaire barely made it out of the pit you can go around kissing some random chick?! How stupid are you?" 

Enjolras flinched at her words and didn't get the time to respond, because she was already calling everyone together. Together they rushed out of the place, already setting up plans on where to look. 

But they found Grantaire sitting outside, a phone in his hand.

"Oh hey," he said. "What's up?"

"Why did you leave?" fumed Éponine, looking shaken up. 

"Uh... I invited 'Parnasse," said Grantaire, frowning slightly. And a second later a figure appeared from a nearby alley. The figure stepped out of the shadow and into the spotlight.

" _Christ_ " Courf whispered behind him. That was certainly a word for it. The man in front of him was beautiful. He had curls similar to Enjolras', but where Enjolras' were blond and swept to the side, his were dark and messy. His eyes were dark and mysterious, and there was something mischievous in the way he stalked towards Grantaire.

He smirked and threw an arm around Grantaire - Enjolras couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous. 

"Err..." Courfeyrac seemed to have lost his tongue. "Let's get back inside, eh?" He tried for a winning smile, but failed quite horribly, as he kept looking at Montparnasse. 

* * *

 "Bloody hell," said Éponine to Jehan later that evening. "They've managed to make this a fucking mess." Jehan nodded in agreement. 

They both understood Grantaire had invited Montparnasse over the second he saw Enjolras kissing that girl (though nobody really knew how she'd managed that), just to make Enjolras jealous. Now Enjolras was looking particularly sourly at Montparnasse and Grantaire, who were on the brink of dry-humping each other in public. 

They also understood that Enjolras wasn't looking at Montparnasse either, but at Grantaire. Jehan and Gavroche already knew about Enjolras feeling _something_ for Grantaire from _that_ argument, but they'd never speculated something would actually happen.

And now it wasn't looking too pretty either.

Courfeyrac was the only one Enjolras would ever talk to about these sort of things, but he disappeared to the bathroom with the two girls he was dancing with earlier. Éponine wasn't really helping Grantaire either, torn between snogging Feuilly and talking to Jehan about this.

Combeferre, Jehan, Marius and Cosette decided to cheer Enjolras and join him in the booth. Combeferre was slightly drunk, which somehow made him even more observant than usual. Even he'd noticed that something was going on between Enjolras and Grantaire.

Combeferre was educating Marius and Cosette about the properties of Francium when he suddenly fell silent and stared at Cosette. When he didn't stop staring, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"You're Jean Valjean's adopted daughter," Combeferre said. Enjolras and Jehan looked up from their own conversation about the symbolism in a revolution.

"Yeah," Cosette said shyly. Marius put a protective arm around her, seeing as she looked a little bit uncomfortable.

Enjolras, however, looked very excited and very agitated at the same time

"When were you going to mention this?" he growled at Marius. He just shrugged.

Enjolras spent the next hour interrogating Cosette about Valjean's future plans, which she didn't know very much about.

He then proceeded to ask her if her father knew that he was going to get arrested too if he didn't watch out ("My father is fully aware and he's very careful").

Jehan and Combeferre had to almost physically drag Enjolras away from Cosette, as the club was starting to close. Jehan had never seen Enjolras this excited outside of a meeting, which was saying something, because he got very excited at meetings.

At least he seemed to have forgotten Grantaire.

* * *

 Grantaire woke up feeling like his head was being split open. He kept his eyes closed but sat up. The familiar weight of 'Parnasse pressed against him, but the sheets felt unfamiliar.

He groaned softly when he finally opened his eyes. Everything was too bright. It was like someone placed a star in the room instead of a simple lamp. When his eyes adjusted he noticed he was in an unfamiliar room. It was way too clean to belong to him or Montparnasse, so where was he?

He swung his legs over the bed, groaning as the room started to sway and his head started to sway. 

"We're at Jehan's place," mumbled Montparnasse next to him. He'd opened one eye and was looking at Grantaire blearily. "We were too drunk to go very far without being seen, so he offered his parent's place for us. They're gone for the weekend." Jehan's parents were very rich, so it didn't surprise Grantaire that him and 'Parnasse had been given their own room. 

"What time is it?" asked Montparnasse. 

"Seven-thirty," answered Grantaire. Montparnasse groaned and dragged himself out of the bed. Grantaire watched him as he tugged on last night's clothing and kissed him when he left the room. 

Grantaire understood. His friends had made it quite clear that they didn't trust Montparnasse, and he knew it. Best be out of the house before any awkward interactions. 

Grantaire also got dressed and made his way to the kitchen, looking around the house while he did so. 

It was beautiful, but it lacked a personality. The walls weren't littered with pictures and there were no paintings anywhere. The furniture was plain and looked uncomfortable, and it made the house look like a fancy prison. 

He knew Jehan's parents kicked him out when he was showing discontent with the government. As they were rich, they were largely unaffected by the strict rules set by Tholomyès. They knew that Jehan liked poetry and equal rights, so he'd practically been removed out of their household. He still had the keys to the house, for occasions like this one. 

He traced his finger along the walls, hoping to find something there to distract him from the booming in his head. He needed water. And something to forget the night before. 

Grantaire felt a pang in his chest as he thought of Enjolras pushing that girl against the wall. Grantaire remembered Enjolras gripping her thigh and slipping his hand under her shirt.  _Shit._

He really needed something strong, now. 

He encountered Courfeyrac in the kitchen, clutching to his glass of water. He smiled when he saw Grantaire and threw him a small bottle of pills. Grantaire nodded gratefully. 

But the pills didn't ease the pain in his chest. It was there like a monster, growling at every rational thought he had. 

No. He was fine. He was fine. He was going to be fine. The emptiness was going to go away. Would his friends understand if he left just a little bit early? Because he needed to. He really did. What if he just didn't show up to meetings anymore? It would be so much easier. He needed the pain to go away. Montparnasse made the pain go away just a little bit. He needed him.

He gripped the counter so tight his knuckled turned white. It hurt, but he was afraid he would fall over if he didn't do it. Why did he ever leave the bed? Why did he go out in the first place? He was sweaty. Uncomfortable. His heart was beating uncontrollably. 

Enjolras had sex with some girl - some girl he didn't know. There was so much emptiness. He needed to get out of here.

"Hey!" Courfeyrac snapped his fingers in front if Grantaire's face. He must've been calling him for a while.

"Are you alright?" Concern was etched into Courf's face, his brown eyes furrowed at Grantaire's.  

Grantaire cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine," he lied. Courfeyrac didn't look convinced. Grantaire was a terrible liar. But they were interrupted by Combeferre before Courfeyrac could interrogate him any further.

"The two girls ditched, then?" joked Combeferre. Courfeyrac blushed, much to Grantaire's surprise. 

"They left with Montparnasse," replied Courfeyrac. So he'd seen Montparnasse. Combeferre chuckled darkly. 

"Sounds like trouble to me," a voice said from behind Grantaire. Grantaire closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning to face Enjolras.

"Where's the girl?" asked Grantaire as casually as possible. Enjolras flinched slightly. 

 "You mean the one who forced herself on me after I danced with her?" snapped Enjolras coldly. He looked furious, though Grantaire wasn't sure why. 

"That would be the one," drawled Grantaire, feigning disinterest. The room was suddenly too hot for his liking.

"I could ask you the same thing, _R,_ " said Enjolras mockingly. Why was he so angry? "Where is your boyfriend Montparnasse?" 

It really wasn't like Enjolras to mock someone, or even get angry in this way. Something must've upset him, thought Grantaire. He didn't care though, feeling far too attacked. 

"He's not my boyfriend," said Grantaire quietly. He saw Courfeyrac start forward out of the corner of his eye. 

"Well you have a strange way of showing it," hissed E. "You two were practically fucking in public last night!"

There it was. Enjolras never swore. 

Grantaire shot forward and strode right up at Enjolras, only stopping until he was inches away from his face. 

He's always hated the 2 inches of height that Enjolras had on him, but that didn't matter now. 

"Enj, stop," whispered Courf behind him. Enjolras ignored him. 

"Why do you care?" said Grantaire. Rage was boiling in his veins, and it took everything in him not to punch the man in front of him. 

"He's a murderer, Grantaire!" Enjolras was shouting now. "And he's gonna drive you right back into that fucking pit!"

"Why should you care?" shouted Grantaire. "It's not like you did ever in the first place!" 

He stormed out. Just before he made his way through the door he heard Courfeyrac telling Enjolras to stay.

Grantaire felt like crying, but he didn't. He knew Courf was coming after him, but he didn't care. There was a weight pressing on him and he wasn't sure the drink was going to take it away this time. 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

There was a kind lady at the Musain, who'd worked there longer than Grantaire could remember. Her name was Madame Houcheloup. She'd seen his worst days and his best. She'd been there for him when he couldn't find himself in the morning. 

Madame Houcheloup was a plump woman, who'd lost her husband when he was executed for openly protesting. She always agreed with Enjolras' ideals, but she said she was "too old for being a revolutionary, m'darlings". Still, she ran small errands for the group and provided snacks and drinks when meetings were longer than expected. 

She was a well-loved woman among _les Amis_. Everybody had come to her for help at least once. She'd never failed them.

She also knew exactly what was wrong when Grantaire stumbled into the Musain that morning. She gave him clean clothes she kept in the back, and a glass of water. 

She smiled her kind smile at him, but her eyes were worried. She remembered the pit well. 

"Sweetheart, get some rest," she cooed. "I'll tell Enjolras you went home." She understood. 

Grantaire nodded gratefully and moved upstairs. He collapsed on the couch usually occupied by Joly and Bossuet, but he couldn't sleep. 

Enjolras hated him so much. He'd always known it, but he never thought it was this bad. He couldn't do this anymore. 

His hands started shaking, and his body was trembling. But he didn't cry. He desperately wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. He'd cried them all a long time ago.

He heard Courf coming in. He'd been here for maybe two hours.

"R..." he began. "R, he didn't mean it."

Grantaire sat up too quickly, causing his head to swim. 

"You heard him. You _saw_ him. He did mean it," snapped Grantaire. Courfeyrac flinched, and Grantaire regretted it.

"Sorry, Courf," he said quietly.

"He's been looking for you this whole time, R," said Courfeyrac gently. "That's why it took me so long to get here. Thought it'd be best if he didn't come here."

"Thanks, Courf."

"C'mon, R," urged Courf. "I know what he said was really shitty, but talk to him. See what he has to say. He didn't mean to hurt you."

"Okay," whispered Grantaire. He really didn't want to, but for Courf's sake he would.

He let Courf guide him off the couch and toward the stairs.

He didn't expect Enjolras to be at the bottom of them.

* * *

Enjolras knew he messed up, badly. He never meant to get that angry. He never meant to shout. He especially never meant to swear. 

He didn't know why he was getting so angry. At Grantaire. At Montparnasse. At the two of them, together. But he did have a general idea. 

And that idea was eating at him from the inside. It doubted him, beat him, tore him apart. Enjolras didn't know what to do. 

He never really knew what he was. He could definitely appreciate the beauty of a woman, but he could also see why Jehan had a number of girls chasing after him, or why Courfeyrac went home with someone new every weekend. He'd fancied Feuilly for some time, but only because Feuilly had the kind of optimistic resilience that others lacked.

He knew he wasn't like Bahorel, who was the only member of _Les Amis_ who was actually gay, but he wasn't like Marius either, who only had eyes for girls. Enjolras wouldn't exactly place himself with Courfeyrac either, whose priority outside the meetings seemed to be his bed.   

He'd been standing outside the Musain for the past ten minutes now, pacing back and forth. He doubted Grantaire liked him back. Why else would he criticize everything he did? He must hate him.

The cold autumn wind was biting his exposed skin, tingeing it red and blotchy. He hadn't bothered to put his gloves on, so his fingertips had begun to grow numb with the cold. His ears were fine, despite not having a hat to protect them - they were hidden in his hair. The grey clouds rolled over the sky, flashing in the distance occasionally. 

He'd been wondering what to say to Grantaire. He knew Courfeyrac was trying to keep him away from Grantaire, but at the moment he didn't really care. 

He just needed to apologize. 

"Hey, I just wanted to say sorry" seemed so casual. Not suitable for a situation like this one. "Grantaire, I am so sorry about what I said earlier. Will you forgive me?" didn't sound genuine enough, but it was the best he could do. 

How was he going to say what he really wanted to say? Enjolras didn't deal with this sort of thing. He never had a boyfriend, girlfriend or any kind of intimate relationship with anyone. 

He decided to ask his friends.

_To: Les Amis_

_Enjolras: Guys, I think I might like Grantaire but I messed up what do I do?_

_Musichetta: FINALLY!_

_Joly: Isn't he on this chat?_

_Enjolras: No, he left a while ago. What do you mean Chetta?_

_Jehan: BOIIIII Gavroche owesss meeeeeeeee :)_

_Combeferre: Enjolras, you, my friend, are an idiot._

_Éponine: boi, ur dumb_

_Marius: What's going on??_

_Bossuet: @joly, I told you!!_

_Bahorel: Dammit Enj, you couldn't wait a week longer? Now I gotta pay Courf :(_

_Enjolras: ?? Explain_

_Jehan: R liked you from the very start and it's the most obvious thing ever._

_Éponine: i was gonna beat ur ass for hurting my bby... all good now_

_Combeferre: Enj, even I knew something was up_

_Joly: TELL HIM YOU BASTARD_

_Enjolras: Really?_

_Joly: YES  
_

_Éponine: omg go_

_Jehan: yes yes yes_

Enjolras closed his phone feeling both incredibly happy and incredibly confused. 

How had they known Grantaire liked him? Had it really been that obvious? 

He supposed with the Cause he never really saw it. His friends told him he tended to be blind when it came to personal things.

With newly found confidence he strode into the Musain.

Madame Houcheloup immediately barred his way. 

"He's not here," she said. She was a great liar, but Enjolras knew better. He saw Courf coming in here, and she seemed quite keen on Enjolras leaving. 

"Madame, please," begged Enjolras. "I need to talk to him. I only want to apologize."

She hesitated for a moment and then let him through. 

"Darling, please be gentle with him," she whispered as he passed.

Enjolras frowned. Had he really done that much damage?

He stopped right at the base of the stairs, his heart beating faster than it should. He felt slightly shaky and lightheaded, and he felt like he was going to faint. When did that happen?

His eyes snapped up when he heard the floor creak at the top of the stairs. 

There he was, held at the elbow by Courfeyrac, eyes wide as soon as he spotted Enjolras. Grantaire also looked shaky, but mostly tired. His hands were trembling. Was that because of Enjolras? 

Enjolras couldn't slow the beating of his heart, and all the confidence he had before had faded like snow before the sun. Why did he ever come here?

Courfeyrac cleared his throat. "I'll -uhh... I'll let you two talk," he mumbled. He let go of Grantaire and squeezed past Enjolras. Enjolras pretended not to notice the pleading look Grantaire shot at Courfeyrac. 

* * *

 Grantaire didn't want to hear what kind of half-assed  apology Enjolras came up with. He already knew it wasn't going to be genuine. Enjolras didn't care about him enough to be genuine about this sort of stuff. He probably just texted that useless group chat and made Jehan or Joly come up with something. 

He was just tired of pining after someone who didn't love him back. Enjolras fancied Feuilly, not him. That was the end of it. 

He was tired of getting sweaty when Enjolras came too close, or when he spoke to him directly. He was tired of watching the light reflect off his perfect golden curls or the way the sparkle in his deep blue eyes whenever he spoke about that stupid revolution. 

Grantaire was just done with over-analyzing everything Enjolras did or said. He was tired of paying attention to every detail of Enjolras as a being.

But he knew it was never going to stop.

He was never going to be able to let Enjolras go. If anything, these past few months had proven that. The sleeping around, the drinking, the fights - none of it could properly distract him from anything and he knew it. Montparnasse knew it, Joly knew it, Éponine knew it.

But here he was anyway, and Grantaire had no way of getting out.

"I-uhh," began Enjolras. He was hovering awkwardly by the stairs, staying some distance away from Grantaire. Grantaire was sitting on a table, praying for this to be over soon.

"I know you must be furious with me, Grantaire. I would be too - I am too. The thing is when you're with him - Montparnasse, I mean, I get this whole thing, I don't really know how to explain it. It's kind of weird - you saw what it made me say. I know it's not really an apology - you probably expect nothing more from me anyway," Enjolras rambled.

"Hold on," interrupted Grantaire. "Start from the beginning."

Enjolras took a deep breath before starting over. "I know why you're mad at me. I'm pissed at me, too. When I saw you with Montparnasse at the club, I felt something I haven't really felt before. I didn't know what it was, didn't know how to handle it - so I got angry instead. I got angry at you for being happy with Montparnasse. And I'm sorry." 

His words hung in the air, weighing on Grantaire.

"I-" Grantaire started. He couldn't make his voice work.

"Montparnasse doesn't make me happy," he said finally. He was afraid Enjolras didn't hear him at first - he said it too quietly. "I'm not happy with him. He's a distraction. The only reason I'm with him is because he understands... my situation. He doesn't ask questions. The others - Courf, Éponine, everyone - they do. They ask me why. Why I'm sleeping around so much more. The thing is, with you - and Montparnasse - don't worry about it. I get that thing too - with you and Feuilly. And -" 

Grantaire's rambling was cut short because suddenly Enjolras' lips were on his and he couldn't say anything more. For just a second, Grantaire just stood there, not exactly believing what was happening. But then he kissed Enjolras back, resting his hands on Enjolras' hips. Enjolras reached up and cupped Grantaire's face, stepping closer to him.

But then he stopped. He stepped back and looked at Grantaire in shock. And regret. Then he turned on his heel and fled the room. 

Grantaire just stood there, the horrible emptiness spilling back into his heart, turning his insides to ice. The room was blurry and Grantaire felt dazed.

The emptiness was replaced with despair and Grantaire was running. 

He ran through a grief-stricken haze not particularly in any direction. He bounded down the stairs and pushed past Madame Houcheloup out of the Musain.

And he didn't stop until he could no longer run. Until he was in a part of the city he didn't recognize. 

He slumped against a wall in some alley, wheezing heavily. He felt the hot tears start to stream down his face and he let out a horrible sob. 

 _Dieu,_ he was crying over something he already knew a long time ago. He sunk to the cold floor and let his sobs overtake him. 

This was what he deserved. He deserved to rot here in an alley of the miserable city - in the miserable place.

All he'd ever done was hurt  _everyone._ He'd left his parents, let them die alone. He was going to leave Montparnasse to die over Éponine by himself. He was hurting Joly by falling into this fucking pit all over again. He was hurting Jehan by only ever offering desolate art. He was hurting Courfeyrac by not being the selfless friend he deserved. He was hurting Éponine by letting her run back to Marius every time. He was hurting Gavroche because he was just a kid, but Grantaire let him see the worst of him anyway.

But above all, he was hurting himself. He hurt himself to the point of no return, and he didn't deserve to come back alive for that.

The cold autumn air was biting his under-protected skin, making him shiver in his clothes. He didn't care.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

_From: Jolllly!!!!_

_WHERE R U_

Grantaire threw his phone across the street. He didn't need his friends right now.

* * *

 Enjolras came stumbling through the door. Jehan had been making breakfast for everyone, and handed him a plate. Enjolras refused. 

Courfeyrac shot a look at Combeferre when he saw how dazed Enjolras looked - like he just saw somebody get killed.

"Enj?" he asked carefully. When Enjolras didn't respond, he felt the attention in the room shift to them. Nobody got closer, though. "Enj? How did it go?" 

"I, uh - I kissed him," whispered Enjolras. Courf would've celebrated, but something was wrong. "And I ran," whimpered Enjolras. Courf felt a cold hand grip his heart. Shit.

"Joly, find out where Grantaire is," ordered Combeferre. "Enj, I need you to tell me everything."

And Enjolras did. After he was done, silence filled the room. 

Then Éponine lunged for Enjolras, rage filling her face. She was restrained by Jehan and Bahorel, so she had no chance of getting to Enjolras.

"You bastard!" she screamed. "You've killed him, you selfish prick!" Enjolras flinched at her words, but didn't move.

He looked so defeated, Courf might've felt bad for him. He knew it wasn't Enjolras' fault for running - the boy was about as good with feelings as a troll - but he was more concerned about Grantaire at the moment. 

"I'll kill you!" Éponine was still shouting at Enjolras, struggling in Bahorel's arms as he dragged her from the room. Enjolras just stared at Combeferre with wide eyes.

"Combeferre," he rasped quietly before clearing his voice. "Combeferre, I want you to see if you can locate Grantaire's phone. I want someone to go with Éponine and search all the bars. He won't be somewhere we'd likely be, so Joly and Bossuet will explore the lower city while I will check if I can get Montparnasse on the Patron-Minette area. I want the rest of you on locations he's been before. Joly will know where they are. Courf, get Gavroche on this too."

It was amazing how quickly Enjolras could clear his head. Courfeyrac certainly couldn't. 

But he started toward one of Gavroche's warehouses anyway. 

* * *

 Grantaire was cold, wet and sore. He'd been sitting here for too long, but he didn't want to move. The icy rain felt good on his skin, calming him a little bit. His shirts were soaked through, and his socks were swimming in his shoes. His curls were matted to his forehead and were in his eyes, and his beanie wasn't really doing anything to protect him from the cold.

This had been a mistake.

He'd really fucked up this time. Having to forever look at his Apollo from a distance was nothing compared to never seeing him again. And Apollo would never want to see him again.

He stared at his hands, watching them tremble in the cold. He felt dazed, dizzy.

"GRANTAIRE!" Was that Joly? No, it couldn't be. It would be what he sounded like if he found Grantaire dead on the floor. It was all just in his head. Maybe he just imagined Enjolras kissing him.

Even imaginary Enjolras didn't want him. Sad.

But then two gentle yet strong hands were on his shoulders and a worried face was in front of him.

"Grantaire. Don't. Ever-" sobbed Joly. He pulled him in and hugged him close. Joly pulled him to his feet, but never let him go - as if he was afraid he would slip away again if he did.

"Joly, I can't go back," whimpered Grantaire. "Please don't make me go back."

Joly looked at him with understanding eyes. Enjolras probably already told him what happened. Great.

"We're not going to Jehan's house," said Joly calmly. "We're going to mine." Grantaire could only nod.

Joly called Jehan, who arrived within five minutes. Joly wouldn't let Grantaire go the whole time - which Grantaire appreciated, because he was afraid he'd just fall down again.

It took them fifteen minutes to get to the apartment, and Jehan left right away to call everyone back to his house. They'd agreed it would be better if Grantaire had minimal visitors at this moment.

At one point Éponine barged through the door and smacked Grantaire right across his cheek, powerfully.

"I deserved that," mumbled Grantaire.

"Yes, you did," fumed Éponine. "Four fucking hours, R! What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I wasn't." Grantaire rubbed his cheek - there was going to be a mark there at least.

Éponine scoffed. "I wanted to murder that bastard, but they wouldn't let me." 

"No, having you publicly executed would be a more pleasant option," muttered Grantaire. 

Éponine laughed - a clear and genuine sound. It sounded nice.

"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit."

"Sleep," commanded Joly. He was angry, too.

Grantaire leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, seeing as Joly and Éponine were discussing other things at the moment. 

* * *

Grantaire woke up to shouting outside. Joly was looking anxiously out the window, but Éponine was nowhere to be found. 

Then he recognized her raspy voice shouting outside. 

"What's going on?"

Joly whirled around and strode over to Grantaire.

"It's nothing," he said dismissively. The shouting outside grew more heated and louder. 

"Wow, those two should get a room," mumbled Grantaire. Joly rolled his eyes.

"Just ignore them, R." Joly made to push Grantaire back onto the couch when suddenly the door opened and Éponine came barging in. 

"Joly, you handle him," she seethed. Joly hurried outside and closed the door behind him.

"How long have I been out?" asked Grantaire.

"Half an hour," said Éponine absentmindedly. 

"Who's out there?" asked Grantaire, swinging his legs over the couch. Éponine dismissed his question with a wave of her hand.  

Grantaire groaned as he stood up. His head was swimming and he felt dizzy. 

"You're still hungover, remember?" Éponine chuckled. 

"That reminds me." Grantaire smirked. "Won't Feuilly wonder where you are?" 

Éponine blushed a deep shade of red, but she laughed. She seemed eager to get Grantaire's mind off of the commotion outside.

"It was a one-time thing, R. Distractions." Grantaire raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Really? Are you sure it had nothing to do with making a certain person jealous?" 

"Nah, I like Feuilly. He's nice and not too bad looking. I couldn't look at Marius and  _Courgette_ being all cuddly in the corner, and Feuilly was feeling lonely," she said casually. She shrugged it off, but Grantaire could tell she was hurting. 

"Feuilly might be a bit older, but he's a good man. You should give him a chance." 

"I've slept with men ten years older than Feuilly. Twenty-seven isn't that old," puffed Éponine.

"Six years difference is still quite a lot, 'Ponine. Jehan would be more socially acceptable for you," snickered Grantaire. 

"I am  _not_ dating a teenager."

"Nineteen, 'Ponine. It's legal."

Éponine chuckled. Grantaire stretched out his arms and popped his back, sighing in relief.

His head still ached, and his limbs felt like they were made of lead. 

"He regrets running away, you know,"  whispered Éponine. She wouldn't meet his eyes, but stared at her shoes. She was fidgeting with her coat and swaying on the balls of her feet. 

"Yeah right. The only reason he would regret it is because he's getting shit from everybody now," grumbled Grantaire. His good mood hadn't lasted very long. The familiar sadness crept back with the reminder of his issues with Enjolras. 

"Maybe," said Éponine, but she didn't sound convinced. 

_Stop thinking about it. Stop it! No!_

Grantaire felt his heart speed up. The room became foggy as tears filled his eyes. 

_Stop crying, you weak bastard. This is exactly why he doesn't love you. You're weak._

Deep breaths, Grantaire thought. C'mon just calm down. 

Éponine said something, but he didn't know what it was. He was too close to the edge again. 

Éponine rushed over and grabbed his shoulders. There were worried lines on her face, they didn't suit her. But Grantaire focused on the lines. He counted them. 

"Look at me, R," Éponine said calmly. Her voice was nice. His heart stopped racing a while after that. 

"You good?" Stupid question, but Grantaire nodded anyway. Éponine let him go and walked to the kitchen to get a water. 

At that moment the door burst open again, and Grantaire didn't really know what happened because suddenly there were blond curls in his face.

Enjolras was clutching to him, hugging him. Grantaire didn't hug back, only touching Enjolras to prevent himself from falling backwards.

"I thought I killed you," whimpered Enjolras into his neck. His shoulders were shaking, and it took Grantaire a moment to realize Enjolras was crying. 

Terrible sobs tore themselves from his throat when Grantaire finally hugged Enjolras back.

"I never - I didn't mean to," Enjolras didn't seem to be able to talk any more. 

Grantaire wasn't angry at Enjolras. He didn't think he ever had been truly angry. 

"I was scared," sobbed Enjolras. Éponine was watching them apprehensively from a distance, clutching the glass of water a little too tightly.

"Please forgive me," he begged. "How can you forgive me?" Something snapped inside Grantaire. To hear Enjolras beg was a terrible thing, something Grantaire couldn't take. 

"Cause that's already been done," he sighed into Enjolras' hair. He pulled away and this time it was Grantaire who kissed Enjolras first. 

Enjolras responded immediately by wrapping his arms around Grantaire's waist, pulling him close. Grantaire in turn, drew his arms around Enjolras' neck. 

He heard Éponine and Joly leave the room at one point, but he stayed there in Apollo's arms. When they finally broke apart, Enjolras was grinning through the ever-flowing tears. 

"C'mon, the others are going to kill me again if I don't get you to Jehan's house," breathed Enjolras.

"Okay, Apollo," smiled Grantaire.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all going to hate me now.

Enjolras and Grantaire being together hadn't changed much. Courfeyrac had hoped Enjolras would become a little more flexible when it came to having fun, but no.

Two months into their relationship and they seemed to argue even more at meetings, verbally destroying one another at every chance they got. They only thing that changed was that they would make out after the meetings, and slept over at each others houses.

Grantaire seemed no less pessimistic and cynical, yet less depressed or sad. 

Enjolras seemed more focused than ever, but everybody had learned something new about him by now. After all, Grantaire wasn't the quietest of drunks.

For example, before that girl in the club, Enjolras had only kissed one other person. That person, surprisingly, had been Courfeyrac. He didn't remember it, since he'd been incredibly drunk at the time.

The Musain generally became a lighter and happier place. Combeferre and Enjolras still got into heated discussions about politics and other things geniuses talk about, while Jehan still recited poetry to Bossuet and Feuilly. Joly and Grantaire still joked about Marius' obsession with Cosette, and Éponine and Marius argued and laughed together. Gavroche and Courfeyrac were in an on-going prank war with Bahorel and Jehan. 

Courfeyrac did notice something off about Cosette. She never came to the Musain, despite various offers from Marius and Musichetta, and she seemed to avoid Éponine at all costs. She seemed happy with Marius, however, so Courf didn't think about it too often.

Besides, he was too focused on getting Combeferre to sleep with him at least once. 

Combeferre was the type who it was impossible to sleep with. Courf suspected he promised himself never to sleep with any member of  _les Amis_ but Courf didn't care. 

Now that Enjolras and Grantaire were together, there was a higher chance 'Ferre liked him back. Courf had been afraid Combeferre fancied Enjolras instead of him, but he was out of the picture now. 

But the genius was completely oblivious to Courfeyrac's advances, the idiot.

Amazing how the smartest people could easily be the blindest. 

Same thing counted for Gavroche. The boy couldn't read or write, but he was the wittiest person Courfeyrac ever met. He knew the Patron-Minette better than Éponine and he knew every little nook and alley in Paris. 

Courfeyrac also found out that Gavroche and Éponine were in fact siblings, but that Gavroche had run away from home a long time ago. Éponine didn't hold it against him, but they acted more like acquaintances than siblings. Gavroche hated his parents, while Éponine earned all her money running errands for them.

Strange how that worked. 

* * *

 It had been one particularly busy night at the Musain. Combeferre and Enjolras were discussing ways to protest without being arrested, while also making their voices heard throughout the city. Joly and Grantaire were drinking with Bahorel and Bossuet, and Courfeyrac was listening to the different conversations in the room. 

Marius burst into the room excitedly, stumbling past tables and chairs to Enjolras.

"Cosette's arranged a meeting with Valjean!" he exclaimed. "He wants to help our cause and the organizations. It's on the twenty-ninth, this month."

"What?" Enjolras burst forward and grabbed Marius' shoulders. His eyes gleamed so fiercely it was almost scary, but Enjolras had never been so happy. "Where?"

"There will be an escort coming here - the location's classified. He wants all of _les Amis_ to come, plus Gavroche. We need to accept first, though."

"Of-bloody-course we're accepting," said Combeferre. "I'm afraid Enjolras might just die if we didn't. So that's settled?"

"Hold on, Apollo," said Grantaire, "the twenty-ninth is Jehan's birthday. The kid's finally turning twenty!"

Enjolras seemed to hesitate before turning to Jehan, who didn't seem to have noticed his birthday was coming up.

"Sorry, Jehan," apologized Enjolras, "but this is bigger than you."

"Enj," chuckled Jehan, "I would have to tell Bahorel to punch you if you were going to miss this for a simple annual thing."

Enjolras smiled gratefully.

"The dinner's formal, so we're gonna have to go shopping for some stuff. Don't worry -" Marius added quickly, looking at the worried faces of his friends, "Cosette's provided the money."

He held out a full-looking envelope, which Enjolras took and opened.

"Christ, that's a lot," he said a little guiltily.

"I call dibs on R, Courf and Éponine for shopping!" called Jehan. Grantaire groaned; Jehan had terrible style.

"Fine, but I get Joly and Combeferre!" shouted Bossuet.

"Ohhh, Enjolras and Marius are mine," laughed Musichetta. She wasn't planning to go, as she wasn't part of _les Amis_ like anybody else, including Éponine, was.

"Actually, ehh, I've got one already," began Marius. But one deadly look from 'Chetta warned him to shut up, which he did.

* * *

"Courf, you're killing me here," chuckled Feuilly. Enjolras had to admit Courfeyrac did look great in his waistcoat and tie. The waistcoat tight on him, but Enjolras knew that was on purpose. Courf didn't wear something unless it highlighted his well-built body.

"Well, Feuilly, mother of my children - I am flattered," said Courfeyrac dramatically. He pulled Feuilly in for a playful kiss.

"And you, Enj," he continued, "if you weren't in a relationship with one of my friends you'd have no chance. Damn, boy." Enjolras laughed. He was wearing a simple tuxedo and bowtie."But the red pocket square? Really?"

They were waiting in the Musain for the transport, which had been granted a pass to go through the city. Which was strange, but Enjolras just thought they didn't even want them to get a sense of direction they were going in. He did wonder how the cars were going to get here, because the largest street near the Musain was still very narrow.

He heard Courfeyrac inhale sharply behind him when Combeferre walked in. He was wearing a suit and tie, nothing special, but Enjolras was fully aware that Courf fancied Combeferre.

Combeferre seemed to have heard it too, because he smiled shyly before sitting down next to Enjolras.

"Are you the only ones here?" asked he. Enjolras nodded. The others had texted saying they were still getting ready.

 Éponine was the next to arrive. She looked amazing in a beautiful red dress and her hair swept up. She was cursing violently at her heels, making everyone laugh.

Everyone else arrived shortly after her, most notably Jehan, dressed in an orange shirt and grey cardigan ("It's comfortable, dammit"). 

Grantaire was one of the last. He looked good in a tuxedo, looking clean for once in his life.

Courf whistled at him, and Grantaire rolled his eyes.

"Apollo, this is how you should be acting," he puffed, gesturing at Courf. "Not some random - though very good looking - boy."

Enjolras pulled Grantaire down to his level and kissed him.

"Better?" 

"Considerably, though I think you're just jealous I called Courf hot,' Grantaire teased. Enjolras scoffed and pushed Grantaire away.

"Courf, should Enj and I break up after this evening because he's a fucking idiot - you're mine." Enjolras rolled his eyes. Typical.

Courf, to his dismay, grinned and winked at Grantaire. He was ever the flirt.

"The car's here!" called Marius from downstairs.

Enjolras looked outside and saw a large limousine driving in reverse towards the Musain. It barely fit, but it was getting through.

"Let's go!" Courf and Jehan were practically bouncing up and down. 

Grantaire let go of Enjolras' hand, being careful not to display any affection in public. They'd discussed this, as their relationship was outlawed. Being gay was illegal.

They all fit in the car, though it was quite tight. Enjolras found himself between a massive Bahorel and the short yet broad Courfeyrac. Grantaire grinned at him from the other side of the car, sitting comfortably between Éponine and Combeferre. 

The seats were lined up against the walls of the car instead of being lined up in the middle. Enjolras had only ever been in one other car before, so this seating arrangement was new to him. He knew most of the people in the car had never even seen one, hence the excited behavior emitting from Courfeyrac and Jehan.

The windows were blacked out, so Enjolras couldn't see where they were going. Another safety precaution, he figured. He was thrown against Bahorel as the car suddenly started moving.

Jehan whooped from somewhere to his right. They were treating this like some aeroplane ride or something. 

Both Jehan and Joly soon figured out that car rides weren't as pleasant as they could be. The driver was told twice they had to stop to let Jehan or Joly breathe or throw up, but the guards only let them when it was an emergency (this happened twice), and even then they were blindfolded before being let out of the car. 

Joly was slowly panicking. He seemed convinced he was dying, saying something about food poisoning and stomach cancer. Bossuet calmed him eventually. 

They arrived late in the evening, and with little time before the dinner was supposed to start. They weren't the only ones invited. Bahorel recognized several other revolutionary associations when they passed through the massive halls. 

The place was huge. There were columns lining the walls with stone vines wrapped around them and little flowers carved in each. The chandelier twinkled with a hundred little lights sparkling down on the hundred guests below. The stairs split and circled to the second floor, which was restricted. 

Marius danced off to find Cosette, while Bahorel and Feuilly went to chat with the other groups. Grantaire got dragged away by Éponine, but shot an apologetic look at Enjolras first. Joly and Bossuet disappeared into the bathroom to get Joly clean and germ-free. Jehan was inspecting the columns, murmuring excitedly about flowers. That left Enjolras with Courfeyrac and Combeferre, while Gavroche bounded off to find the food.

They found Valjean quickly.

"Monsieur Valjean!" called Enjolras. The greying man turned slowly and spotted them. He didn't seem to recognize them, but that was to be expected. He actually looked rather confused. 

"Yes, my boy?" he said. His voice was deep and warm. Valjean's face was gentle and kind, which looked quite odd compared to his body, which rivalled Bahorel's. 

"We're from  _les Amis de l'ABC,_ Cosette said you wanted to meet us," said Combeferre.

To Enjolras' surprise, Valjean just sighed. "I'm afraid I can't help you. Cosette invited all these people here, including me. I had nothing to do with it."

Enjolras frowned. Why would she do that?

"I think she wanted to help all of you, but I can't do so for all of you at once," chuckled Valjean. "Her heart's in the right place."

Enjolras agreed, but he looked at Combeferre, who had a better instinct for this sort of stuff. 

"Enjolras," he heard Courfeyrac whisper. Combeferre just shrugged.

"Enjolras, I don't like this." Courfeyrac sounded worried. But he never got the chance to respond.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" a booming voice announced from the bottom of the stairs. "The lady Cosette and her father!"

Enjolras turned to the stairs and saw Cosette walking down the stairs. But she didn't seem like the Cosette he knew at all. She had a terrible smirk on her face and instead of the modest clothing she always wore, she sauntered down the stairs in a jet black dress that clung to her curves.

But that wasn't the thing that made the room silent. 

On her arm, in Valjean's place, was Félix Tholomyès.

Dead silence filled the room. Enjolras was aware of Montparnasse and Musichetta standing a little ways behind Cosette and Tholomyès, but he didn't care.

And then everybody started running. 

There was panic everywhere. Enjolras was being dragged away by Courfeyrac, but he pulled away. 

Valjean stood there, frozen and staring at Cosette. 

"Monsieur Valjean!" shouted Enjolras. When he didn't respond, Enjolras dragged him away. 

He tugged and tugged but Valjean finally got the message and started running too.

Enjolras pushed through the panicking mass of people, but he couldn't see a thing. 

"Boys, the cars are this way!" he heard Valjean shout. He spotted Jehan and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him towards Valjean. 

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he picked it up.

"Enjolras!" shouted Joly from the other end. It was hard to hear him over the screams echoing in the room.

"Run to the cars! Just take one! Meet at the Musain!" shouted Enjolras. And he ran.

He saw the garage doors and sprinted towards them. A gun went off somewhere behind him.

 _Please don't let it be one of my friends,_ thought Enjolras desperately. 

He dashed through the door and jumped after Courfeyrac into one of the nearby cars. Marius and Jehan were right behind him.

Valjean took the wheel and didn't wait for anybody else. Enjolras spotted Joly and Bossuet getting in a car driven by Combeferre.

The car lurched forward and sped off, far away from Tholomyès.

* * *

 They had driven the whole ride in silence. Nobody dared to speak. The only sounds were the engines and Marius' sobbing.

They ran into the Musain, all of them afraid to be out in the open for too long. 

Enjolras collapsed in a chair and tugged his tie and first three buttons loose.

 _Dieu,_ he hoped the rest were alright. He hadn't seen Grantaire through all the confusion. He looked around. 

Jehan was whimpering in a corner, balled up and rocking back and forth. Marius was being consoled by Courfeyrac, who didn't seem to know what to say. Valjean had his head in his hands, but he was completely still. 

Enjolras got up and strode over to Jehan. He put his arms around the boy and pulled him close. Jehan responded by sobbing quietly into Enjolras' shirt and wrapping his own arms around him. He was shaking and his breath came in fast pants.

Enjolas' head shot up when he heard the second car pull up behind the first one. He let go of Jehan and strode towards the stairs, ready to catch anybody who was injured.

Joly and Bossuet were the first ones to make it up the stairs. Joly's face was tear-streaked and Bossuet's was completely blank. Combeferre fell into Courfeyrac's arms as soon as he spotted him. 

"You drove?" chuckled Courfeyrac nervously to Combeferre.

"I read about it," was his answer.

Éponine stumbled in, bumping into Bossuet and almost losing her footing. Enjolras steadied her. Her face was pale and her nails were digging into Enjolras' arms. She looked at him with wide eyes. 

"It was the same Cosette," she whispered hoarsely. Enjolras remembered. The Cosette that used to live with Éponine before being taken away by a man was the same Cosette Marius had fallen in love with. "I recognized him," she nodded to Valjean. "My parents didn't hate her, Enjolras. They were terrified of her."

"Where's Grantaire?" Enjolras tried to keep his voice steady, but he failed.

"He wasn't with us, but I saw Bahorel getting into a car with another man and Gavroche." Éponine's face steeled when she saw Enjolras' pale one. She was being brave. "I'm sure he's with them."

"Where's Gavroche?" asked Courfeyrac, pulling himself away from Combeferre.

"With Bahorel," answered Enjolras. Courfeyrac sighed in relief, but he still looked tense.

"I'm sorry," Enjolras heard Bossuet whisper hoarsely to Joly. Joly only responded by clutching onto his lover.

The room filled with steely silence for some time until the sound of screeching tires filled the street below them.

Bahorel arrived first, and he launched himself at the wall. He punched it so hard his knuckles started to bleed, and he attempted to punch it again but Joly rushed to his side.

Gavroche was holding the hand of some girl who looked a couple years younger than him. Eight or nine maybe. Gavroche launched himself into Courfeyrac's arms, trembling slightly. The girl stayed by the stairs, looking around the room with wide round eyes. She had light blond hair, with streaks of filth in it, same as her face. Her eyes were large and blue, and she looked very familiar to Enjolras. What struck him most was that she was wearing a maid's uniform. 

"Gavroche, who is this?" intrigued Combeferre. Gavroche stumbled back to the girl and took her hand. She hid behind him.

"This is Renae," Gavroche said. "She's on our side. She's Tholomyès' daughter."

"What makes you so sure she's on our side?" said Enjolras more harshly than he intended.

"I can tell you anything," the girl - Renae - said.

"Tell me about Cosette," rasped Marius from the corner of the room. Renae nodded.

"Cosette is Tholomyès' first daughter. Her mother wasn't his wife, so he sent her away to these people. I think she used them, she's good at that. When he-" she pointed at Valjean, "adopted her, she played the nice girl, but she's been talking with my father the whole time. He used him to let Cosette be near him. That's also why Valjean rose to power so easily. He wanted to keep her close, but not be suspected of breaking his own rules. He also wanted her to spy on Valjean when it turned out he spoke for the people. She's the best liar, and she lied for so long about being good. I don't know why she stopped lying."

"And what about you?" asked Courfeyrac gently.

"I'm his second daughter. I don't know my mother. They killed her because they didn't trust her. They made me seem like a servant, so I could be close to Tholomyès. Only he and Cosette know who I am. They don't care. They hate me." The girl shivered, and she hid behind Gavroche again.

"I know where your friend is," she whispered to Enjolras. She was talking about Grantaire. "I saw him get dragged away by one of the guards.

He's as good as dead."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :')

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So obviously there will be multiple chapters to this story. I'm thinking of turning this story into a series just so you can prepare yourself for a non-conclusive ending. Once again, constructive feedback is appreciated, since I don't have a beta.


End file.
